


Taco Bell and Theology 101

by AmyZestyPond



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Mythology References, Theology, Trans Dean, Trans Male Character, dubious theology, musings about aliens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:44:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6442075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyZestyPond/pseuds/AmyZestyPond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dean's advisor reminds him of the general education class he still needs to take if he wants to graduate on time, he finds himself in Dr. Singer's three hour long Theology 101 course once a week. Instead of wondering what he could possibly have to worry about in a gen ed course, he probably should've spend more time wondering who he would run into. He never expected someone like Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Week 1

**Author's Note:**

> All my love to Wingz for providing me with a constant source of inspiration and stress relief. I would dedicate this fic to our environmental science teacher, but I never want him to find it.

"Alright, kids. Welcome to Introduction to Religious Studies. My name is Doctor Bobby Singer, and you  _ will _ call me Doctor. I worked damn hard for that PhD." Dean sits in the second row of students, head resting in his hand as he listens to  _ Doctor _ Bobby Singer begin the first lecture of the semester. He does intend on taking notes at some point despite how useless this class will ultimately be, but right now, he’s busy doodling. He's a mechanical engineering major. He doesn't need to know about ancient gods or traditions. Even if this would be important for his future or whatever, it’s syllabus week. The real work comes later. What he does need this class for is to fulfill his general education requirements before graduation. 

Dean’s advisor had suggested taking Intro Religious Studies with Dr. Singer since he was known for getting a little off track during class discussions. Less time Dean would have to waste on electives, meaning more time to work on his senior honors thesis. Which all lead him here, sitting at a creaky, old table, stuck between the wall and a nerd. 

"I know most of you are only here to fulfill requirements, but I still have expectations." Sounds like an empty threat to Dean. The syllabus sitting in front of him only has two tests listed and no other assignments. "I also know this is a three hour class at the end of the day," Bobby continues. "So we're all going to be tired by the end of it. I'll give you a break about halfway through class to get up and stretch if you so choose." Too bad Dean already got his dinner.

From there, Dr. Singer goes on to give them all an overview of the topics they’ll be covering during the semester. A list of major religions and another of minority religions in the US over the past fifty years. Dean takes notes, jotting some important stuff down wherever he can find space in between his various doodles. After they've all been sitting there for an hour and a half, Dean has some basic notes in regard to each major religion.  

"Alright, I need to sit down," Bobby says. "You've got fifteen minutes. If you're not back by then, I don't really care." As soon as he's done talking, the kid next to Dean is out the door, wallet in hand. Dean stands up to stretch, smiling at Bobby as he does. He stopped in Dr. Singer's office last week to introduce himself and found, surprisingly, that he actually got along pretty well with the old man.

"How ya doin, Doctor Singer?" Dean asks, strolling to the front of the room to sit on a desk closer to his professor. 

"Not too bad, Winchester," Bobby says. He leans back in his chair, one corner of his mouth pulling upward in a smile despite the ever present scowl on his face. "Nice to know at least one of my students will show me some respect." He huffs in annoyance, and Dean almost laughs. Almost. He isn't exactly certain where these boundaries lie yet.

"You respect me, I respect you. That was our deal," Dean answers. He looks around the room to see only five of the twenty-five students scattered around the nine tables. The others must have gone to find a food truck or something before they all close.

"You takin' notes?" Bobby asks. 

"Yes, sir. I've never heard of some of these religions before."

"Well they may be considered major, but they sure ain't big. Especially here." 

“No kidding,” Dean mutters. He’d wager a guess that at least eighty percent of the student body at Kansas University is Catholic. Not only that, but practicing catholic. He learned the hard way that there’s a difference. Practicing catholics have a lot less chill than the ones who don’t go to church every Sunday.

“So other than that, what’d’ya think?” Bobby asks him. 

“The class?” Dean clarifies for certainty before answering. He doesn’t think he’ll mind this class. Hell, it’s probably going to be the easiest, most relaxing three hours of his week. “Seems like it’ll be alright.”

Their fifteen minutes is almost up. Not that Dean's paying attention to the clock, but students are starting to trickle back into the room. "Go take your seat, Dean," Bobby says. "Come see me if you got any problems, ya hear?" Dean nods and heads back to his seat at the end of the second row. The kid on his right isn't back yet, but he left his notebook open on their shared table. Being a naturally curious person, (Sammy would call him nosy) he can’t help himself from skimming over the pages.

"Excuse me," a deep voice interrupts Dean as he's reading through the guy's notes. He looks to see deep cerulean eyes staring at him.

"S-sorry," Dean stutters. "I was just curious. You weren't back yet so I thought maybe..."

"It's fine," the guy interrupts him before he can embarrass himself even further. "Would you mind moving that actually?" He holds up a bag of takeout in one hand, and his wallet and keys in the other. 

"Yeah, no problem," Dean answers, sliding the notebook out of the way and placing it next to his own as Bobby begins the second part of his lecture. "I'm Dean, by the way." Figures he may as well introduce himself before this guy gets the wrong impression. 

"Castiel," the guy answers. "I would shake your hand, but I don't really have a free one at the moment." He places his takeout bag on the table, careful not to spill its contents, and shoves his wallet and keys into his bag.

"You look sort of familiar. Have we met before?" Great, Winchester. Flirt with the guy. Precisely the impression you wanna give him. He didn't even mean to do it! Except he has definitely seen those eyes before. He's certain. Okay, yeah, he’ll admit that does sound a little gay.

Castiel sits down before turning back to Dean, grabbing his notebook, and... yeah, definitely checking him out. "Perhaps," he says. "What's your major?"

"Mech E." Dean knows he shouldn't be having a conversation in the middle of Bobby's lecture, especially after he was literally speaking to him less than five minutes ago. He doesn't notice Castiel pulling tacos and a soda from his bag of takeout.

"I'm in astrophysics," Castiel offers after a minute of silence. "It's possible we've had a few classes together, although you look a bit young." He pauses to take a bite out of what Dean presumes is his dinner. "You're not a freshman, are you?"

"Nah," Dean answers, half focused on the lecture and his notes, but also waiting to hear Castiel's deep voice again. "I'm a senior," he provides. If he wasn't listening for Castiel's answer, he probably wouldn't hear the other boy spluttering on his soda. "I don't think spit-takes are a good idea during class," he comments, earning himself a quick glare from Castiel. 

"You're a senior?" Castiel asks. "No offense, but you do not look like you're twenty two."

"I know," Dean smiles smugly. He much prefers this reaction to being asked why he looks so young. "So I guess we've probably had a couple classes together before."

"Probably," Castiel answers between bites of his second taco. And yet, he's still taking notes, Dean notices. They sit through the rest of the class, quietly focused on their notes, though Dean's are barely legible and completely surrounded by doodles. Oh well. He's got the required reading at least. 

"Okay, that's it," Bobby says. "We've got the room for another half hour, but I'm done, so feel free to go." Dean stands and stretches his arms above his head before slipping his books into his bag. This class is going to be even easier than he hoped. He'll have to start scheduling his dinner for the middle of class, too. 

"So Dean..."

"Yeah?" He slings his bag over his shoulder and turns to see Castiel standing beside him.

"How do you feel about Taco Bell?"


	2. Week 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next Wednesday, the total number of students in Dr. Singer's Theology 101 class has dwindled down to seventeen. Apparently, they're covering Catholicism now, so Dean settles down and prepares to listen to a full lecture of bullshit. That is, until Castiel decides to open his mouth and argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Wingz, my all time fav, for providing me with this week's topic. So have some basic Greek mythology!

Next Wednesday, the total number of students in Dr. Singer's Theology 101 class has dwindled down to seventeen. Dean and Cas claim the center table directly in front of Bobby's desk while everyone else is scattered around the room in small groups of three. They’ve become something akin to friends in the past week, or at least, close enough for Dean to call the dark haired boy Cas instead of "Cass-tee-ell? What the hell kinda name is that dude?" without getting kicked in the crotch. Because, yeah, Cas had threatened to kick Dean in the crotch when he said that. Really, though. What the hell kind of name is Castiel? ("You an angel or somethin'?" Cas had glared at him. "Maybe.")

“How many of y’all consider yourselves religious?” Dr. Singer asks the group. Dean twists around in his chair to see sixteen hands raised. Great. He can’t even pretend to be surprised. They’re at Kansas University for Christ’s sake. Practically the entire state is Catholic. “Now put your hand down if you practice a religion besides Catholicism.” Dean waits, watching his classmates expectantly, but nothing happens. Fantastic. He’s stuck studying religion with a bunch of Southern Catholics (surprise, surprise). This should be fun.

He twists back to face Bobby, but doesn’t quite get there. Cas is staring at him curiously, head tilted to the side like an owl, almost expectant. Dean simply quirks a challenging eyebrow at him. 

“Mr. Winchester,” Dr. Singer interrupts their silent conversation. “You’re the only one who didn’t raise their hand. Care to share?” 

“Uh…” He glances briefly back at Cas to see blue eyes watching him intently. “Sure, why not.” Dean swallows down the lump of nerves forming in his throat. He can do this. Why is he so nervous? “The way I see it, if there is some all-powerful omniscient God up there,” he pauses, takes a deep breath, prepares for the reaction he knows is going to come, “he’s a dick.” Faint gasps sound from around the room, and Dean has to will himself not to break out laughing.

Apparently, Castiel doesn’t have the same amount of self-control. He sits beside Dean, face broken out into a grin as he clutches his stomach in laughter. This has got to be a joke. He’s mocking him, right? 

"Mr. Novak?" Dr. Singer asks. "Do you have a comment?" Woah, okay Doctor Singer, Dean thinks. Slightly passive aggressive. He could get used to this.

"Sorry, sir," Cas addresses their professor quickly before clearing his throat and smiling at Dean. His eyes are shining with mirth. "It's just... you're right." Well, whatever Dean was expecting to hear, it certainly was not that. 

"What?" he can't stop himself from saying.

"You're right. God is kind of a dick." Cas shrugs casually as if he hadn't just condemned himself to an eternity in Hell. That's how that works, right? You disrespect God (or whoever is up there) and they send you to Hell? 

"You're joking." What the fuck kinda drugs is this guy on? Why is he saying that? He's named after an angel for fuck's sake! (Dean looked it up after their conversation last week.) Shouldn't he y'know  _ care _ a bit more?

"No, Dean. I don't joke about my Father," Cas says. Oh yeah this guy is totally tripping. Whatever he’s smoking, Dean wants some. Who on campus deals anything that strong? Though Castiel definitely notices Dean's confusion because his features soften when he asks, "Dean, have you read the Bible?" 

"No." Dean shrugs. His family isn't extraordinarily religious so he never cared much for the Church. He can't even remember the last time he saw a Bible. Actually, scratch that. He definitely remembers those dusty old books being shoved in his face by religious recruiters on campus two days ago. Honestly, why does that always happen to him? Are they looking for a challenge? Brownie points for the most unlikely recruit? He doesn’t understand.

"Well, I wasn't planning on covering it in detail," Dr. Singer interrupts, "but I suppose if Castiel is willing to help cover the material, we can spend some extra time discussing Catholicism." Oh, yay. Now he can learn why God hates him in detail. 

"There isn't a whole lot to it," Cas says politely. Wait, does he... does he not want to do that? "If Dean is interested, I can talk to him outside of class. However, I believe we both were very interested in learning more about religions we've never experienced directly." Oh thank God! Or... thank Castiel? Is he allowed to say that? Since Castiel is technically the name of an angel? Ah fuck it. He doesn't know. Thank Castiel! Dr. Singer may or may not roll his eyes at them before continuing the lecture. 

“Well we won’t go into detail, but like your syllabus says, we have to at some point. Might as well be now.” Today's topic: Catholicism. Apparently. Dean leans back in his chair and groans, preparing himself to be bored beyond belief for the next hour.

“It’s not that it’s bad,” he hears Cas mumbling. “It’s just so repetitive. We all definitely know this already.” When Dean sneaks a glance at him, he can see that the other boy has closed his notebook and pushed it to the edge of their table. Seems like neither of them is taking notes tonight.

*****

“Well that was useless,” Castiel mutters when Dr. Singer lets them out midway through the lecture. “If we’re doing more of that when this break is over, I’m taking a nap instead.”

“We aren’t,” Bobby says, reclining in his own chair as students start to trickle out of the room. “Though I presume you could afford to take a nap anyway, Mr. Novak.” Dean yawns and looks over to see Cas laugh quietly to himself as he digs his wallet out of his bag. It only takes a minute, but finally he manages to pull it free and look back at Dean. “I’m grabbing dinner, if you care to get the fuck out of here.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Dean nods, following Castiel out of the basement and back into the real world. He still wonders why their class is stuck in the basement of the library, but with the reminder that he hasn’t actually eaten dinner yet, food takes top priority at the moment.

*****

“But if the distance is so massive, why would they even bother building the ships to send their populace here? What’s the point?” Dean asks, his takeout bag flopping around as he waves his arms for extra dramatic effect. Castiel makes some grumbling noises as he attempts to swallow his last gulp of soda quickly enough to argue. They were only gone for five minutes, but already this conversation is more engaging than the entire first half of lecture.

“No, no. You’re not thinking it through,” he answers, voice exposing his obvious distress. “Who’s to say they won’t have developed the technology to cross vast distances in a short amount of time?” He drops his dinner onto the table and stoops to put his wallet safely back in his backpack. 

“What, like warp drive? From  _ Star Trek _ ?” Dean asks, falling back into his chair as he digs into his bag of fresh yet greasy tacos.

“No, Dean. That’s impossible. Haven’t you learned anything about relativity?” Cas stares at him in that condescending way that Dean’s quickly learned he often does, but Dean just shrugs and mumbles something about Einstein being a punk bitch. He refuses to give up on the Enterprise becoming an eventual reality, even if that means stealing alien technology to do it. Really, who’s Castiel to say that warp drive is entirely impossible? Maybe their technology is too primitive. Also, his mouth is currently too full of food to actually answer. Castiel sighs, not quite ready to resign the argument yet. “It’s more like a space-jump,” he muses, pulling napkins and food boxes from his own takeout bag. He holds a single, cheap, brown napkin up to demonstrate. “Like if I folded this napkin in half, a tiny little organism could just step across the fold instead of walking the whole way.” He displays the folded up napkin proudly for his classmate to see. “No relativistic speed necessary and extremely efficient.”

Dean watches patiently, muttering his understanding and nodding when appropriate. Maybe Castiel’s explanation is more scientifically accurate and all that, but that doesn’t mean he has to tell him that. “So no warp factor nine?” He teases. Castiel just groans and crumbles up the wasted napkin, tossing it at Dean’s head.

“If you two are finished with this conversation,” Dr. Singer interrupts, “I think the rest of us are ready to get back to class.” He watches Dean and Castiel, turning away only after they’ve both nodded their acknowledgment. “Now, I promised Mr. Novak here no more Catholicism, so if you want to talk more about that, you’ll have to stop by office hours later this week.” He spends the next hour on a short introduction to Greek mythology. As if that isn’t too broad of a topic to cover in an hour. Dean scribbles down some notes as he eats, the caffeine from his soda the only thing keeping him awake enough to do so. At least Castiel seems to be enjoying himself more. Who knew an astrophysicist would be so interested in ancient Greece.

They cover all the basic information for the fourteen major gods and goddesses. Zeus was the asshole leader. Aphrodite was the goddess of sexual and romantic love. Poseidon was the god of the sea. Common knowledge sort of stuff. Dr. Singer is desperately trying to retain his students’ attention by asking them to name aspects of human life associated with each god in turn. Castiel scoffs when a student in the back confidently named Hera as the goddess of war. 

“She’s the queen of the gods, dumbass,” he mumbles, taking another sip from his soda and rolling his eyes as Bobby corrects their classmate. 

“So if not Hera, who is the god of war?” Bobby asks. “C’mon we’ve only got a few minutes left. You can sleep when class is over.” Dean wracks his mind for the answer, but he’s starting to slip. Who ever thought class until 10 o’clock at night was a good idea? When nobody else answers, Dean hears Castiel sigh and resign himself to being the only person who seems to care about maintaining pretenses. 

“Ares,” he answers. “God of war, bloodshed, and violence. Some people confuse him with Athena because she’s the goddess of battle strategy, but they’re wrong.” Dean has to make a conscious effort not to cringe at the comment, knowing he’s confidently spoken of Athena as the goddess of war on more than one occasion.

“What? Battle strategy isn’t close enough to battle?” he asks.

“No. They’re two entirely different things.” Castiel’s giving him that look again. “Would you appreciate someone coming at you with a sword if you’re in charge of strategy?” Alright, that does sound like it would be a horrendous experience. No more arguing with Castiel about Greek mythology.

“Point taken,” he acquiesces quietly, allowing Bobby to continue the lecture. He mostly zones out again, scratching notes into the paper in front of him as Dr. Singer drones on about unique qualities attributed to each of the gods. Big shock, literally everyone resented Zeus. Dean’s about on the verge of falling asleep when he overhears Castiel muttering happily about Dionysus. He can’t quite understand what the nerd next to him is saying, but he is fairly certain he heard the phrase “queer icon” come out of his mouth. Suddenly Dean finds himself wide awake and, for the first time, curious about the information being thrown at them in this absurd late-night lecture.

“Today we would probably say Dionysus was the god of college students,” Dr. Singer is saying. “In ancient Greece and still today, he is most often associated with the culture of wild parties.” Bobby cast a knowing look around the room, unfortunately his joke would’ve gone over a lot better if the class had been awake to hear it. Dean tried to smile encouragingly at him, though it probably came off as more of a grimace considering his own struggle not to fall asleep. “Castiel, what can you tell me about Dionysus?” Bobby asked, apparently giving up on class participation altogether. 

Castiel, however, was a sharp contrast to their classmates. He was wide awake and engaged, a small smile cracking briefly across his defined features. “Dionysus was one of the most interesting Greek gods,” he answered. “He was hailed as the god of madness, wine, theatre… basically parties, like you said.” Seems like Dionysus was the sort of guy Dean would be partying with most weekends. “But most people have forgotten that he was also the god of gender dysphoria.” If he hadn’t finished his soda already, Dean swears he would’ve mimicked Castiel’s spit take from last week’s lecture. There was a god for gender dysphoria? Were the Greeks actually that much more accepting than modern society? He's going to need some time to process this, and the quick, knowing look Bobby sends him is absolutely not helping. Holy shit.

Bobby dismisses the class five minutes later, about a half hour ahead of schedule. Two seconds later, Dean is gone.


End file.
